


Darkest before the dawn

by Thesaurus_with_no_words



Series: Escaping Neverland [3]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Peter Pan Fusion, Angst, Attempted Murder, Dean as Peter Pan, Hand Jobs, M/M, Minor Character Death, Oral Sex, Pirate Castiel, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-17
Packaged: 2018-02-11 22:54:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2086200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thesaurus_with_no_words/pseuds/Thesaurus_with_no_words
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cas isn't dealing with loosing Dean, so he comes up with a plan...<br/>Unfortunately, it is not one of his best ones and soon there is a lot more at stake than simply his love life.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Going under

To say Castiel had been destroyed would be an overstatement.

He woke up every morning, cleaned up, got dressed and did his duty as a captain. He made sure that his crew and he would often go on food supply runs. He made sure their supply of medicine didn’t run out by trading with the Indians. He made sure that the ship shined from top to bottom, so much that she looked like the day she’d been built.

But he did it, all of it, with hollowness in his chest and a grim expression on his face. See, Castiel hadn’t been destroyed, he’d just been broken. The heart he had unwittingly, unintentionally, given to Dean, had been broken and thrown back in his face. And for what? A misunderstanding.

Truth be told, Castiel didn’t know _what_ was wrong with Dean, he’d only understood so much from the boys ramblings. Apparently Dean thought that his aging had something to do with Castiel, and when he thought about it, maybe he was right. But it certainly wasn’t something Castiel would have done on purpose, not after respecting Dean and his standpoints for so long.

He was worried about the boy, even though he knew he shouldn’t be, that it wasn’t his place. They were done, as Dean had said, it was over.

Except it wasn’t.

Castiel had never accepted Dean’s decision, and he wasn’t about to now. So as the weeks went on, the hollowness in his chest was filled up with a fever, a burning need, a rage.

He ordered his men onto the island, day after day, and they tore through the jungle, searched under every rock, and lay in wait by traps for hours, all to find Dean and his lost children. But it was all for naught. More time passed, and as it did, it seemed more and more like Dean and his gang had sunken into the very ground. Had disappeared.

Castiel gritted his teeth whenever his men returned with news, or rather, no news. They were weary he knew, concerned about their captains sudden obsession with finding Dean Winchester. There were whisperings amongst the crew, rumours that the solitude of the island had finally made Castiel go mad. They weren’t completely wrong. But it wasn’t the solitude of the island that plagued him; it was the emptiness of his cabin, the coldness of his bed and the knowledge that somewhere out there was the person with the powers to dispel it all. If Castiel could just find him, explain to him.

But Dean Winchester didn’t want to be found, and he wasn’t.

It had been a late night, another dark hour spent in solitude, when Castiel’s patience had snapped. He was a pirate, he reminded himself, and pirates didn’t play fair. They cheated.

Castiel was about to cheat.

And that was how he found himself here, at the cove of the island, waiting for the tide, hiding amongst the cliffs and watching dispassionately as the water slowly inched its way up the Indian chiefs eldest daughter’s neck. She was tied to a reef, and if Dean didn’t show up tonight, she would die. He’d told the Indians as much when he and his crew had attacked them.

Fight back and you’re dead. Come for the girl yourselves and you’re dead. Find Dean Winchester and make him come to me, and she’ll live. Fail to do this and she’s dead.

All nice and simple terms.

“Castiel. You’re bloody insane.” Balthazar whispered from beside him, shivering in the evening breeze. A storm was coming, and the air was moist and chill, carrying the promise of thunder. For a jungle island, it really could get quite cold. The water was lapping against the cliffs where they were hiding, the spindrift sometimes hitting their boots. Castiel ignored it all, and Balthazar, focusing instead on the sky. Dean should have shown up by now. Why hadn’t he? As far as Castiel knew he was a friend of the Indians, surely he wouldn’t abandon his allies now?

He cursed and moved closer to the cliff surface.  It was in that moment, while Castiel was unaware, that Sam Winchester saw his chance to strike. Castiel looked up at the familiar sound of clothes rustling through the air and instantly spotted Sam by the reef with the Indian girl, Sarah. Sam wasn’t the one he wanted however, so he wasted no time. “Shoot!” He ordered, his voice ringing across the water of the cove.

The sound of gunfire and screams joined the crashing of the waves in the beginning downpour, Castiel and his crew were no longer shooting blanks. Out on the reef Sam had dived down into the water, no doubt to work on freeing Sarah’s bound hands. Castiel ignored everything else, the children’s scream, his pirates roar, the rain and Balthazar’s yelled warnings. He jumped into the row boat they had anchored by the cliff, cut the rope and set a course for the reef. He wasn’t letting Sam take his bait, not before Dean shoved up.

He was almost there when Sam resurfaced, and the boy’s victorious smile faltered when he saw Castiel. Sam cursed, took a hold of Sarah and lifted into the air. But Castiel wasn’t letting them get away.

He lifted his gun.

And nothing. Sam didn’t fall from the sky. The rain water had gotten into the gunpowder. Castiel cursed and threw his pistol down, it was useless right now. He glared up at Sam who was now transferring Sarah to the arms of another flying kid. Sam looked back, a serious frown on his face. Then the boy unsheathed his weapon, a short sword by the looks of it, and flew towards Castiel.

He was ready and met Sam head on, but unfortunately a rowboat didn’t make for the best setting for a fight, especially not when your opponent could fly, and after a particularly vicious attack from Sam, which wounded Castiel’s left shoulder, the boat tilted and sent the blue eyed pirate into the churning water.

Castiel gasped as he resurfaced, just to be pressed down again by Sam. Again, Castiel was no match for his flying opponent, and his head went back under before he managed to get any air. Sam relentlessly held him beneath the waves, even as Castiel struggled and tried to get a hold of the boy, to drag himself up or Sam down, he wasn’t sure, all he knew was that he needed air, now. But Sam didn’t let up, the boy was trying to drown him, and it looked like he was succeeding. Castiel felt panic settle in his chest and fought harder, black dots started to appear for his vision and the rush of the waves mixed with the buzzing in his ears. His consciousness started disappearing together with the depleting air in his lungs; he was blacking out, his limbs growing heavy, his movements sluggish. He tried to hold onto Sam’s sleeve, to drag himself up, but the boy had a good and painful grip on his hair and firmly held him under. As the fight ebbed from him, Castiel thought distantly that he didn’t want to die like this, not before he had seen Dean.  

Castiel had almost given up when the muffled sound of a gunshot could be heard above the water, and suddenly the pressure on Castiel’s shoulder and head disappeared. With the very last surge of his power Castiel broke the surface of the water and dragged in air, he coughed and hacked and vomited a bit, realising that he had taken in water while he had been held under. He had been closer to sinking than he thought. Once his head cleared and he could manage to stay above the water without wildly kicking his legs, he looked around for any sight of Sam, but the boy was seemingly gone. Had he been hit?

Castiel turned his eyes skywards and got his answer. Sam was still alive, clutching his arm and looking absolutely pissed off and in pain, but very much still kicking. Castiel looked around for the boat, he needed to get out of the water before Sam decided to go back to drowning him, but the boat was gone, probably beneath the waves. Castiel cursed his bad luck and started swimming for the cliffs. The rain was pelting down by now and the waves were high, making it hard to see the reefs just beneath the water. Castiel prayed to both the Christian and every pagan god he knew as he swam, that he might be spared and not suffer the bloody end of being banged up against a reef, crushed by the water against the stone. He also cursed his own lack of foresight, he should have chosen another day to lure Dean out, one when there wasn’t a damn thunderstorm incoming.

Castiel swam and swam, but he was already exhausted from his struggle with Sam, the waves were high and instead of getting closer the cliffs seemed to get further and further away. Castiel wondered if he was being dragged out to sea by the current. His arms were giving up, and just as his legs also started to cramp, he felt someone, a couple of someone, take a hold under his arms and heave him up. At first he thought it was his crew coming to his rescue in one of their boats, but as he was lifted higher and higher above the water, it became apparent that it wasn’t the case. Castiel had been picked up by a couple of the lost children. Fear surged through him as he looked down. Were they planning on dropping him? Letting him die by falling down on the jagged cliffs? It seemed likely, but to Castiel’s surprise, instead of doing so they started flying towards the shore. On the way there Castiel tried to look around for sight of his crew, but the rain was pelting down, obscuring everything. Castiel couldn’t make out anything aside from the cliffs, the water and the beach in the distance.

Finally they reached the shore, and Castiel who had so far been hanging tiredly between the kids like a limp sack of potatoes was unceremoniously dropped onto the sand, face first. Castiel spat and tried to sit up, just to feel a foot on his back, pressing him back down, and a sword held uncomfortably close to his neck. He opted for just lying still, listening instead for what he hoped was a clue to what they were going to do with him. He wasn’t disappointed in that aspect.

“You got him?” He heard someone ask incredibly.

“Yea, he was fighting to stay afloat out by the rocks. We thought we better bring him in, let the leader deal with him.”

There was a short tense silence. Then—“No.”

“Sam!”

“I said no. we’re not taking him to Dean, he’s done enough. You know Dean hasn’t been himself since the last raid. God knows what this animal did to him.” Castiel was kicked sharply in the ribs; he gasped from the pain and accidentally inhaled some sand, coughing when it tried to enter his lungs. Before he was done he was forcibly rolled onto his back so he could now stare up at the angry dark eyes of Sam Winchester. Castiel wished he had a smart remark ready, but nothing came to mind. He knew the boy was going to kill him. Where was the humour in that?

“Tie him up.” Sam ordered, and immediately a couple of the other kids set about doing just so. They were thorough, tying Castiel on both hands and feet and around the torso. Soon he was completely immobilized, and Castiel realised distantly that he had probably lost every chance of escape.

“What are we gonna do with him?” He heard a girl ask.

Sam looked at him, hatred in his eyes. “He tried to drown Sarah; I think it’s fitting if he gets the same end.” Sam looked up at the others. “Take him to the blue cave.” Murmuring sounded from around Castiel, but no one questioned Sam’s order. Soon they were flying again, and Castiel started to realize that he was in a very bad situation.

He knew the blue cave, it was well known, really. During ebb it was a beautiful grotto of blue stones and stalactite, but during flood it became treacherous. The chamber in the very back wouldn’t be flooded until the very last, so if you had ventured too far into the cave, you’d be caught with no way out, just watching as the tide rose and waiting for your inevitable end. And that was to be Castiel’s fate. He closed his eyes as he hung between the two kids carrying him. He knew he should probably beg for his life, try to reason with them, anything, but the hatred he had seen in Sam’s eyes had been real and very strong. Castiel could say or do whatever he wanted, but he wasn’t getting out of this. He was going to die. He was going to die without ever seeing Dean again.

Castiel knew he was crying, from fear mostly, but also from hopelessness and anger. His tears rolled down his cheeks, but were obscured by the rain. Castiel cried silently, thinking of how long he had spent searching for Dean, calling for him in the dense jungle, hoping the boy would hear him and come out. He thought about raiding the Indian village, the fires he had started there, how his men had trampled every tepee and rounded up every person, threatening to end their lives if they didn’t cooperate. Castiel regretted it now. He had never been a cruel man, but he had been at his wits end. He had so desperately wanted to talk to Dean, but now he was never going to get the chance.

Castiel felt them land, but didn’t look up. There was no reason to. He didn’t want a last look at the rainy grey sky or the desolate cove, the only last wish he had was to see Dean, and he knew it wouldn’t be granted.

They moved into the cave, the water already sloshing around the feet of the children as they walked. All it meant was that Castiel’s end would come sooner. It took them maybe five minutes to slowly make their way into the end of the cave, walking carefully over the algae covered slippery rocks. Once they reached their destination, Castiel was roughly thrown onto the hard rocky ground. He groaned as he landed on his wounded shoulder, and then looked up at the gathered children, who were all solemnly gazing at him, as if he was already a corpse. Castiel sneered at them, but it had no effect. They continued just staring at him for several seconds, before a young blond girl stepped out from the rest. “A—any last words?” She stuttered.

“Jess.” Sam admonished, but the girl ignored him, keeping her gaze on Castiel.

This was it, this was his last chance. Castiel schooled his angry expression, no reason to let her change her mind. “Yes.” He croaked, his throat sore from saltwater, bile and sand. “Tell Dean I didn’t know; tell him I never did anything on purpose.” Castiel hesitated. _Tell him I love him_. He thought, but didn’t say it out loud. He had sworn to keep their affair a secret, and he would, even if it meant taking his feelings with him to the grave. “Tell him I’m sorry…” He said instead. It was nowhere near what he wanted to tell Dean, it didn’t even come close. But it was all he had, all he could say right now, in this company.

Sam snorted and turned around. “Enjoy drowning.” He called out as he left, the other children slowly following him, some glancing back every now and then, seeming uncertain but not speaking up. The blond girl was the last to leave. “I’ll make sure to tell him.” She said quietly, before also turning around and leaving. Her footsteps echoed in the cave, slowly fading, before disappearing completely, leaving Castiel alone in the dark, waiting for his death.

 

** xXx **

****

Dean had spent the last several weeks mostly cooped up in the burrow. It wasn’t that he didn’t have anything to do anymore, now that he could no longer go to Castiel, just that he had no desire to. Plus the fact that Castiel and his men had been tearing the island apart trying to find him, which made it dangerous to leave. Dean had actually heard them stomping around on what counted as their roof, always walking straight past the dead tree where the entrance was hiding. Some days, Dean had almost wanted them to find him. Some days, when he had gotten out of bed, he had gone close to their traps and observed the pirates from a distance, all the time thinking. What if he did it, what if he went back? Talked it over with Castiel? He had been pretty rash, he knew. He’d been freaking out and Castiel had been the closest source to take it out on.

He sighed and rolled over in his hammock where he spent most of his times these days. It didn’t matter that he had been rash; the end result would have been the same. He couldn’t have stayed with Cas, not when their activities made him age. But he just hadn’t counted on it hurting this much.

There was a hollow ache in his chest, an almost constant burning behind his eyes and a lump in his throat. He’d cried more these last weeks than he had his entire life, and even so, he didn’t know what it meant. Dean had never tried missing anyone like this, not even Sam, it was just different. Some days he cursed Castiel and had half a mind to lead another attack on him, a serious one this time, and other days he just missed him and wanted him in every sense of the words. Whether or not Castiel had made him age on purpose was also something he often changed his mind about. He’d never gotten a clear answer out of the pirate before he took off and now Dean regretted it.

He stood up from his hammock and made his way to the kitchen to get a glass of water. He didn’t eat much these days, but at least he made sure to get enough fluids. The other kids were worried about him, he knew. They thought Castiel had done something horrible to him. He hadn’t bothered correcting them. Better they thought Dean was just dealing with some shit than they knew the truth. He drank his water with a grimace. He knew he couldn’t stay like this, but he felt like he couldn’t help it. He had no desire to do anything, he just wanted to sleep, mainly because being asleep seemed so much better than being awake and deliberating over his decisions about Castiel.

Today for example wasn’t an angry day, today he just missed Cas and he was pretty sure that the pirate hadn’t done anything on purpose. Yesterday it had been the opposite, he’d been so angry that he’d snapped at the other kids and generally been a menace to be around, plus he’d been sure Castiel was behind the soft golden hairs on his cheeks, which didn’t seem to be disappearing by the way… Just another thing to add to his ever growing amount of stress. At least he hadn’t grown out of anymore shirts, but Dean couldn’t help feeling that it might be just a matter of time.     

His thoughts gave birth to a sudden burst of anger in his chest and Dean threw the glass he’d been drinking from against the wall where it bounced off and landed on the floor without breaking. Dean looked at it, feeling tears well up in his eyes. Fuck, he couldn’t even throw hard enough to break a fucking glass. What was wrong with him? He sat down and put his arms around his legs, hiding his face in his knees. He took a couple of deep breaths. _It was just a glass, calm down_. He told himself. It was hard though, seeing as these days it took almost nothing to tic him off and send him into a fit of tears or rage. Yesterday, which had as previously mentioned been an anger day, one of the younger kids, a gangly little dude called Garth, had spilled some juice on him and Dean had almost ripped his head off, metaphorically speaking.

He was in the middle of trying not to have another breakdown when he heard the other children returning. They were unusually quiet, no screaming and laughing heralded their arrival. Dean got up from the floor and schooled his features. He picked up the glass and put it by the other dirty dishes and mugs. He had taken a rag and was drying water off the floor when the other kids entered, Sam in the front. Dean looked up, saw Sam, and frowned. Sam was smiling like the cat that got the canary, while the other kids looked nervous and unsure. Plus Sam had a badly tied bandage on his arm, a bit of blood seeping through.

“You’re hurt.”

Sam blinked, his smile faltering a bit as he looked down at his arm, but then he shrugged, as if waving it off. “It’s not serious, anyway, something good happened!”

Dean put down the rag and wearily moved closer to Sam. “What did?” He asked.

Again Sam’s expression grew dark, his smile slipping off like a mask. “The Indians were raided, the whole village burned down and trampled and Sarah was abducted.” Dean gave Sam an incredulous look. “That’s not a good thing!”

“I know, it wasn’t what I meant, but I thought you should know.” Sam sighed, then walked over to the long table’s bench and sat down. “It was the pirates, of course. Damn murderers the lot of them.”

“They killed people?!” Dean asked, heart in his throat. _No, Castiel wouldn’t do that!_ He told himself, while trying to control his breathing. He couldn’t afford to hyperventilate right now. But damnit, what was going on?

Sam hmph’ed “They tried to. It was a good thing we decided to go to the Indians tonight, otherwise we’d never have known. They’d taken Sarah and tied her to a reef out in the cove; she’d have drowned if I hadn’t gotten there in time.”

Dean sat down too. This was all too much to take in. Had Castiel really done that? Had Dean been so blind that he couldn’t see his true nature, had Castiel’s laughs, his kindness and his promises not to hurt any of the lost children if he could help it all been lies? Dean shook his head in disbelief and horror, but Sam obviously took it as a cue to go on. “We fought the pirates; they were waiting between the cliffs, an ambush. I got Sarah free but Castiel came after us in a row boat, I don’t know what he was thinking. I got him in the water and held him under—“ Dean’s eyes widened in fear, no, not Cas! “—But someone from his crew noticed and shot at me, that’s how I got this.” He said, pointing to his arms. Dean just stared. _They’re not firing blanks anymore._ What was he supposed to make of that? Maybe, now that Castiel didn’t have to pretend to like him anymore, he’d gone back to his old ways? Dean swallowed and looked down. His chest hurt.

Seeing as Dean didn’t have anything to add, Sam continued. “Victor and Jo caught him. Fished him up from the water and brought him to the beach. We dealt with him.” Sam leaned forward and took Dean’s hand, squeezing it in his own. “He’s gone Dean. You don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

Dean felt his insides turn to ice, then break. He stared blankly at Sam, not comprehending what he had just been told. It couldn’t be true, Castiel couldn’t be gone, he couldn’t!

In the midst of his denial, Jess stepped forward. “Dean…” She took a hesitant step closer to him, her head turned down. “He—He told me to tell you something.” She swallowed and looked up at him. “He said he didn’t know, that he didn’t do anything on purpose… He said he was sorry.”  

 _Oh God, he really hadn’t known, it hadn’t been Castiel’s fault!_ Dean shook his head. “No.” He whispered. He stood up, pulling his hand free from where it was still clasped in Sam’s. “No!” He said again, louder, and turned away from Sam and Jess, putting a hand over his mouth as if it might stop him from throwing up. He felt sick.

Sam blinked at him confusedly. “What do you mean “no”? What’s wrong Dean?”

Dean spun around, facing Sam again. “What did you do to him?!” He demanded. Sam stood up too, slowly, cautiously, as if Dean was a wild animal he had spooked. “We left him in the blue cave Dean.” He said, taking a step closer to his older brother. “He’s probably dead by now.”

 _No! He’s not dead! He can’t be!_ Dean’s mind screamed at him. He bolted for his hammock, startling Sam at his sudden movement. He dug around between his things, finally finding his knife. Then he ran for the exit.

“Dean! What are you doing?!” Sam grabbed hold of his arm as he ran past him. “Where are you going?!”

But Dean didn’t answer; he pulled free and launched into the air, propelling himself out of the hollow tree and into the air. He immediately set course for the cove, letting Sam’s cries fade behind him as he flew with the speed of sound. He needed to get to the cove, to the cave and most importantly, to Cas, before it was too late.

Dean had never flown so fast in his life, yet it seemed like it took far too long for him to reach the cave. He came to a stumbling landing by the entrance, almost crashing into the cliffs due to his speed. Above him the sky was still a dark shade of grey and the tide crashed with violent waves around his bare feet. Dean started moving into the dark cave with no hesitation, the water was already reaching his chest, he didn’t have much time.

He walked through the dim tunnel for what felt like far too long, the sound of waves and thunder crashing in his ears and the water high around him. He prayed that he wasn’t too late.

Finally the ground starting elevating again and in the darkness Dean could faintly make out the shape of a lying figure. He ran the last part of the way.

“CAS!”

Dean came to a skidding halt and immediately dropped to his knees beside Castiel’s still form. He was cold to the touch and looked deathly pale in the low light. “Cas, Cas! Wake up!”

There was a faint groan. “…Dean?” Castiel whispered hoarsely, squinting in the darkness.

“Yes, yes it’s me.” Dean choked on a sob. “Oh God, you’re alive.” He bent down over Castiel, fisted his hand in his shirt and hid his face in his chest. “You’re alive.”

“Dean, you can’t be here. The tide!” Castiel said weakly, he tried sitting up but Dean pressed him down again. “I’m not leaving without you. Hold still, I’ll cut your ropes.” Castiel held still as Dean started filing away at the hemp, but didn’t stay quiet. “Dean, listen to me, get out before it’s too late.”

“Not without you.”

“Dean, my arm is wounded, I’ve lost a lot of blood and I can’t move my legs, they’re numb. I can’t swim. ”

“If we hurry you don’t have to.”

Castiel felt silent then, letting Dean work. Soon the ropes around his wrists and torso were gone, leaving only his feet. Dean got to work on them too, hurrying as much as he could. He could hear the water crashing into the cave, could almost feel the water rising, like a constant threat in the back of his mind. Castiel hissed as the ropes around his ankles were finally cut. Dean set about massaging blood back into his legs. With some effort Castiel sat up and did so too.

It took a while, _too long_ , but finally, Castiel was able to move again. With Dean’s help he stood up on shaky legs. “We need to leave, Cas, now. Can you walk?”

“I—I think so.” He said unsurely, but there was no time to try it out or wait more, the water had already risen significantly. Together they hobbled to the edge of the dry floor, standing close to the tunnel which was already mostly filled by the sea. Just as Dean was about to step in, Castiel arm shot out and yanked him back. “Cas, wha—?”

“Shh!” Castiel put a finger to his own lips. “Can’t you hear that?” He whispered. Dean strained to listen, but aside from the waves and the storm outside, he couldn’t hear anything. “The ticking noise.” Castiel said, eyes scanning the deceptively churning ink black water. Dean was about to say no when he heard it too, the ticking. Dread filled him as he remembered what that sound meant.

“Say Cas… Didn’t you once feed a clock to a crocodile who tried to eat you?”

“If memory serves, you tried to feed me to him, but yes.” Castiel said around a nervous gulp. Both of them slowly backed away from the water, which was still steadily rising.

“We’re like mice in a trap.” Castiel said bitterly, eyes still on the water. Dean moved closer to him and grabbed his hand, holding on to it with a death grip. “What do we do? We can’t stay here or we’ll drown, but if we go into the water the croc will get us.”

Castiel was silent for a while. “We’ll lure him out and kill him, it’s the only way.” He finally said.

“But we only have my knife!”

“We have to Dean, there’s no alternative.”

Dean closed his eyes and breathed out. This was beyond stupid, it was reckless, but Cas was right, there was no other choice. “Okay.” Dean said, letting go of Castiel’s hand. He stepped towards the water edge, just to be stopped by Castiel. “What are you doing?”

Dean brushed Castiel’s hand off his shoulder. “Luring it out.”

Castiel took a step closer to him, trying to grip his shoulder again. “No Dean, I’ll—“

“You won’t do it. You’ve lost blood, you could hardly walk a minute ago. You won’t be fast enough.” Dean argued. Castiel let his hand fall with a defeated expression. Knowing that it was useless to argue, they couldn’t afford to waste the time, he took a couple of step back again. “Be careful.” He urged.

Dean nodded, though he wasn’t sure if Castiel could see it in the darkness. He walked close to the water edge again and kneeled down. Making sure he was ready to jump out of the way he carefully brought a hand into the water, swirling it around a bit. His heart was in his throat and his eyes stained against the lack of light, hopelessly searching for a figure beneath the surface. All the while, the infernal ticking got louder and louder.

“Dean!”

Castiel’s yell was the only thing that allowed him to get out of the way in time, as the croc launched itself onto land, snapping it jaws at Dean.

Dean yelled and fell back, landing awkwardly on his butt. Meanwhile the croc wasted no time coming against him with alarming speed. It was a giant, far bigger than last time Dean had seen it, but it still had the same evil glint in its eyes as it prepared to clamp down on Dean’s neck. Before it could though, there was a loud whoosh of air as Cas landed on the monsters back and futilely tried to hold it down.

“Dean! Hurry! Kill it!”

 Wobbling a bit, Dean got to his feet, raising the knife. It seemed impossible though. The croc was snapping its jaws and trashing all over the place, leaving no room for Dean to stab it. He moved closer and then jumped back when he was almost taken out by the croc’s tail. Then he saw an opening. The creature had turned its back on him, busy fighting the fatigued Cas, leaving it open to attacks from behind. Dean wasted no time throwing himself forward, almost landing on top of Cas and stabbing the knife down through the croc’s thick scales.  The green monstrosity hissed but didn’t stop trashing, finally managing to throw Cas off. He landed on the ground with an unf, quickly scrabbling away to get out of reach from the croc’s teeth. Meanwhile Dean was left on its back, futilely stabbing the creature over and over again. But the end he too was thrown off. The croc was on him in seconds, once again going for his neck. Dean’s scream mixed with Castiel’s yells.

Thinking he was going to die anyway, Dean closed his eyes and brought up the knife still in his hands, hitting the croc with closed eyes.

The beast gave a wounded hiss and then ceased struggling, slumping down over Dean, almost crushing him with its heavy body. Dean opened his eyes and blinked, hardly believing that he was still alive.

“Dean!” Castiel’s frantic yell tore him away from staring at the dead crocodile. He looked up just in time to see Cas throwing himself down beside him, he took hold of the croc and tried to push it away. Dean helped. When the croc was rolled onto its back, it became apparent what had killed it. Dean had gotten it with the knife in its softer underside, directly stabbing its heart. If Dean had been religious, he’d have thanked God for the miracle. Instead he pulled out his knife, relieved that he was still alive.  

“Dean.” Castiel was suddenly there, embracing him. Dean breathed in deeply, still winded from fighting the croc. “Are you hurt?” He asked Cas.

Castiel pulled back a bit and looked at him. “Me? I’m fine. It’s you I’m worried about.”

Dean shook his head. “Don’t be, I’m fine. We need to get out of here, now.”

With Castiel’s help, Dean was pulled up. After taking a steadying breath and casting one last glance at the croc, they made their way to the exit, just to stop dead. They both stared disbelievingly at the sight before them.

The tunnel was completely flooded. They were trapped.

Dean felt his knees give out and sank to the ground, beating a fist into the rock. “No!” He yelled in frustration. It couldn’t be true, not after everything they’d just done to get out. He felt tears running down his cheeks, but didn’t bother drying them away. He’d soon be a lot wetter anyway. They were caught. They would drown.          


	2. Breath of life

It was hopeless, they were trapped. _It’s over,_ the thought kept repeating in Dean’s head, over and over again. He squeezed his eyes shut and cursed. It wasn’t fair!

He distantly felt Castiel put a hand on his shoulder, but it didn’t matter, not anymore. He was going to drown, locked in a dark cave, fighting and struggling until he ran out of air. He was never going to see Sam again, or Charlie, Jess, Jo or any of the other lost children. He wondered if they would come looking for him and find his corpse. His body shook and a sob tried to wrench itself out of his throat. He didn’t want to drown. It was one of the worst things he could think of. Dean opened his eyes again and looked down at the knife in his hand.

Perhaps he wouldn’t have to drown after all. He turned to Castiel and held out the knife. Castiel’s distraught expression morphed into one of confusion. “Dean?”

Dean swallowed and looked down. “It’s better than drowning.” His voice was shaking. Castiel’s hand closed gently over his, slowly lowering his hand that held the knife. “No.” He said, shaking his head. “Not like that, not when we still have a chance.”

“What do you mean “A chance” it’s over!” Dean said bitterly, looking up again. Castiel continued to shake his head. “No, we can try swimming. We might make it.”

Dean thought about the tunnel, how it took several minutes to get through when walking. He snorted and bitterly shook his head. “We won’t make it, it’s too long.”

Castiel’s hand squeezed his. “It’s better to try, please Dean, don’t just give up.”

I’m not giving up! I’m just...” Dean mumbled, head lowered. Castiel moved closer and enveloped him in a hug. “Let’s swim. We have to try.” Dean squeezed his eyes shut and breathed in Cas’s scent. He didn’t want to lose this, not before they talked, not before he could at least say he was sorry that it couldn’t work. He still wanted them to be friends, even if he couldn’t have more. He wanted to see Sam and the others again. He didn’t want to die. He fisted Castiel’s shirt and slowly nodded. Castiel pulled back a bit, looking at him.

They stood up, Dean’s legs shaking all the while, and walked to the water. Dean looked at the ink black pool and gulped. Castiel gripped his hand and firmly stepped into the dark liquid. Dean followed reluctantly. He shivered as his body slowly went in. It was freezing. The water was already reaching Dean’s neck when Castiel stopped them. “We have to dive from here.” And he was right; Dean turned slightly and looked at where the water licked at the cliffs in front of them, the tunnel was beneath this out cropping.

“Dean.” There was a hand on his cheek. Castiel gently turned him until Dean was looking at him. “Cas?” Castiel closed the distance between them and placed his lips on Dean’s. The kiss was sweet, with only the lightest swipe of tongue. Dean relaxed under Cas’s ministrations, he hadn’t noticed how tense he was before. He kissed back enthusiastically, not caring for the consequences right now. If this was the last thing he did, he wanted it to be good.

Finally Castiel pulled back, smiling gently at him and gently swiping his thumb over his cheek. “We’ll make it.”

Tears burned in Dean’s eyes. _No one else has._ He wanted to say, but he didn’t. Instead he gave a little nod, leaning in and pecking Castiel on the lips again. He felt like he was supposed to say something, but he couldn’t think of what. He pulled back from Castiel. “Let’s go.” He whispered.

Castiel released his hand and Dean heard him taking a deep breath before he dived under. Dean followed.

The water closed around his head and instantly tried to fill his ears and his nose. Dean wanted to go back up for air, but forced himself to swim instead. He couldn’t see anything, everything was completely black under here, it was like swimming in liquid darkness. Terror built in his chest, what if he got lost? But then his right hand scraped the cliff wall, assuring him that he was still going straight. Dean’s lungs burned and he desperately wanted to go up for air, but he knew that there was no air above him, only solid rock. He didn’t know where Castiel was, if he was in front of him or not, and he couldn’t feel him, the only sensation on his skin was the current trying to press him back into the cave. Dean fought against it, but his arms were growing tired and he felt like he was going so slowly, at a snail’s pace really. How far were they? And more importantly, how far was left?

Suddenly something sharp, probably an outcropping of rock, scraped Dean’s arm and the surprise coupled with the pain had him opening his mouth and losing half of his air. Instantly Dean closed it again, but it was too late. He was going on half now, and the oxygen in his lungs was rapidly depleting. His thought’s started going muddy and suddenly Dean was no longer certain if he was going straight.

His lungs burned, he needed air, desperately, now!

Instinctively he sought upwards, up, up, up. He lost the rest of his air, but instead of breaking the surface and breathing in, Dean’s head hit hard rock. Startled he drew in a breath, but there was no air, only water. Dean choked but it was too late. Water entered his lungs; it burned and made him feel like throwing up. He panicked; clawing at the cliffs all the while his mind slowly went dark.

His last thought was that he hoped Castiel made it. 

 

** xXx **

****

The first sensation he felt was pain, quickly followed by nausea. He instinctively turned around and coughed, making water gush from his lungs. He coughed, hacked and drew in big gulps of air.

Then he threw up.

The taste of seawater mixed with bile as he coughed more and spat. His eyes, nose and throat burned from sand and stomach acid. He choked on a sob, he felt horrible, and his head was throbbing like it’d been kicked. Slowly Dean turned around to lie on his back. He opened his stinging eyes and looked up into the grey skies. It was still drizzling. Distantly he became aware that someone was calling his name.

“Dean!”

 “Dean!”

“DEAN!”

His blurry vision tried to focus as Castiel’s pale face appeared in front of him. It was hard, everything hurt and stung. “ _Cas_ …” He finally managed to croak.

He felt himself being lifted from the ground and then he was pressed against Castiel’s chest. “Oh God Dean. You weren’t there when I resurfaced, I thought—I went back for you, but I couldn’t find you in the darkness. I had to try twice before, before… I kept thinking it was too late, but I—you’re alive!” He sobbed. Dean could feel how Castiel’s whole body was shaking as the older man cried into his shoulder.

Dean didn’t know what to say, so he tried to bring up his arms to hug Cas back, just to find that they hurt too. He did it anyway, fisting his hands in Castiel’s wet shirt. They were both completely soaked and freezing cold. Castiel pulled back and took Dean’s face between his hands, kissing him soundly, apparently not caring about the taste of vomit. He pulled back, but only enough to lean his forehead against Dean’s. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“You didn’t. I’m here Cas.”

“I can’t lose you Dean.” Castiel sobbed, his voice was wrecked. “I can’t lose you. I love you.”

Dean felt himself freeze up. Love? Castiel _loved_ him? He didn’t know what to say to that, and all the while, Castiel just kept crying and babbling and clawing at his clothes, as if he could somehow bring Dean closer than he already was.

Dean was saved from answering though, by the sound of several thumps—the sound of feet landing on the sand. Slowly Dean extracted himself from Castiel’s embrace and turned around, already knowing who it was.

“What’s going on?”

It was Sam. Dean swallowed and feebly tried to make Castiel stop clinging to him. He was still so tired; he had no energy for dealing with this. Sam shouldn’t be here, he was never supposed to know!

“Dean, why is he hugging you?!”

“Sammy…”

“You take off all of a sudden and we find you here with him, and he’s—You saved him? Why?!” Sam demanded, his eyes wild.

Dean tried to stand up, to face Sam on equal ground, but found he couldn’t. His legs were shaking too hard and the left one felt close to cramping. “Sammy, it’s not what you think…”

“Oh, so you know what I think?! Tell me then! You’ve been acting off since—since I don’t even know when, and now this?”

“I…” But what was he supposed to say? There was no explaining this situation without telling the truth. Dean hadn’t been thinking when he had flown to reach Cas. The only thought in his mind had been _don’t be dead_.

Sam and the other kids with him were watching them as Dean desperately tried to come up with an explanation, an excuse. Slowly, as Dean still found nothing to say, Sam’s eyes turned hard.

“Dean.” He said, taking a step closer. “You’re our leader, we’ve always followed you. We believe in you… So you need to prove yourself to us. You owe us that much.” Sam pointed at the knife hanging at Dean’s hip.  “I don’t know what’s going on but he’s our enemy. You need to kill him.”

“Kill…” He turned and looked at Castiel, who was looking at him too almost pleadingly, his eyes wide and face pale. Dean watched his Adam’s apple bob as Castiel swallowed.

Kill him? Kill Cas?

Cas who would hold him and kiss him like he was a treasure, Cas who would keep his secrets, Cas who had risked his life, diving again and again into the darkness to save him, Cas who had cried of relief when he woke up, Cas who loved him…

“I can’t.” He said while looking into Castiel’s blue eyes. There was the sound of several gasps behind him. Dean closed his eyes and lowered his head. He knew what this meant.

“Dean…” Sam sounded like a wounded puppy. Then his voice hardened. Fuelled by his anger he stepped forward, drawing his weapon. “If you can’t do it, I will.”

At those words Dean finally managed to make his shaking legs obey and he raised himself from the sand, he stood up, hunched over and fought for balance, but stared at Sam with determined eyes. “I won’t let you.”

“Why?!” Sam cried. He was practically vibrating with anger now. Behind Dean, Castiel was still sitting down, weaponless and probably just as tired as Dean, if not more. Dean placed himself in front of him, shielding him from view.

“Sam… I—He’s not an enemy.”

“What do you mean? Then what about all the raids on his ships, all the times we’ve fought him?!” Sam stepped even closer, weapon raised. “He tried to kill Sarah!”

Finally Castiel spoke up from behind Dean. “I didn’t plan to kill her; I just wanted to talk to Dean.”

Sam’s glare settled on the pirate. “Oh yea? Was that what you told the Indians whose _village you burned down!_?”

“Sam please.” Dean said, holding up a hand, wanting to calm his brother before everything truly went to hell and a fight broke out. Dean knew he couldn’t win right now. “It’s all a misunderstanding.” He tried weakly.

“So what, you’re actually friends? Everything was a lie?” Sam was shaking.  “Why Dean?!”

Dean closed his eyes and lowered his head. “It was to protect you. To keep you happy and entertained so you wouldn’t want to leave to the other world. I know you don’t remember Sam, but people are cruel there, and they will hurt you… I just needed… Castiel helped me. We staged our fights.” Dean opened his eyes and looked pleadingly at Sam, begging him to understand. “And—and his crew shot blanks! You were never in danger, not really.”

Sam obviously didn’t understand. Angry tears, the kind Dean had only seen his brother shed twice in their life, were gathering in Sam’s eyes.

But soon he stopped looking like a kicked puppy; as Sam mulled over Dean’s words, his face slowly grew slack, no longer angry, just cold.

“To keep us safe…” Sam scoffed. “Yea right. Wasn’t it really to protect yourself? You’d keep your position as leader as long as we needed someone to lead us into battle; you used it as an excuse to keep us in line, to keep us here! All the times I asked to go to the other world, you’d say I couldn’t, that it was full of cruel adults like the pirates, and that we needed to fight them before they found and annihilated us. You made us live in fear!”

“No!” Sam I—“

“—I’m not done. You lied to us, just to keep us here, and for what, so you wouldn’t be alone?!”

“Sam, please understand, it wasn’t like that!”

Sam shook his head, closed his eyes and turned away from Dean.

There was a snort from further behind Sam, someone from the group of lost children stepping forward. “The hell it wasn’t.” It was Gordon. “All the while we thought we were fighting for our lives, you were making cosy with the captain.” Gordon sneered at Dean. “What did you give him in return for his compliance, huh? What did you do all those nights, together with him in his cabin? I bet I can guess.” Gordon spit in the sand, almost hitting Dean’s feet. “You disgust me.”

Dean felt dread settle in his belly. Again he turned towards Sam, who still wasn’t looking at him. “Sam, I know you’re angry, but please listen to me. I did it all for you! For all of you!”

“Sure you did Dean.” Sam mumbled, his voice sounded odd, flat somehow. He turned around and faced Dean again. “But I don’t care.” He stepped closer to Dean, all the while pointing a finger at Castiel.  “ You lied, just so you could stay buddies with a pirate! Well guess what? Now you can. Stay with him! I don’t care anymore.” He turned his back on Dean. “And don’t you dare come back! I hate you!” He yelled that last part and then set off in a cloud off sand, leaving Dean behind.

Dean felt his legs give out and fell to the ground, landing on his knees. The words _I hate you_ ringing in his ears.

One by one the other children followed him, Gordon casting a smirk Dean’s way before he flew off. In the end only two people were left on the beach.

Dean curled over, hugged himself in his arms, as if it would keep his shattered heart together, and let out a scream. What should never have happened just did. They’d found out. It was over. Dean was alone.

A pair of arms encircled him from behind and warm air was breathed against his neck. “Dean…” Castiel settled like a warm weight along his back, holding Dean as he sobbed like a child. Dean shook his head, no, he _was_ a child.

He turned around and buried into Castiel’s embrace, letting out hollow wails as the rain fell above and around them. Castiel stroked his back while he gently swayed them back and forth, whispering soothing words in his ear, which Dean was almost too far gone to register. He didn’t know what to do, it had always been him and Sam, always! And then the other lost kids had joined them too. Dean was used to them, he loved them, loved their home and their games and their long nights dancing with the Indians. What was he supposed to do without them? Where was he supposed to go?

“I’m a—all a—alone.” He sobbed.

Castiel held him tighter, stroking his hair and his back. “You’re not alone Dean, you still have me.” Castiel kissed his neck. “You’ll always have me.”

Dean didn’t want Castiel though, not like this, not as his only choice. “I—I wanna go hooome.” He cried. Back to the burrow and his warm hammock. Away from this beach, away from Castiel. He wanted to flee, some part of him thinking that as long as he flew fast enough, he could outrun what had just happened. He could go back and Sam would be there, with his stupid bitch face and his why were you gone so long Dean? And they’d still be brothers, they’d still, they’d…

_I hate you_

Dean screamed into the fabric of Castiel’s shirt. Why? Why had this happened? Was it really so bad, what he had done? He’d just tried to keep them happy, to let them all have fun. Why had Sam already been angry when he showed up? Why hadn’t he listened?

And Gordon… Had he already known? For how long? Had he said something to Sam?

Dean’s cries tampered off as he thought about it. He knew Gordon didn’t like him, didn’t want him as a leader, and now he had gotten what he wanted… It seemed a little too convenient. The harsh words Sam had said, that had hardly sounded like Sammy at all. But then, why would he say it? Unless someone had already whispered in his ear…

Dean stopped crying but held onto Cas, who was still stroking his back. Oddly enough, the thought that he’d been conspired against actually calmed him. It meant that there was still hope. Maybe if he could talk to Sam again…

Dean’s thoughts were interrupted by distant yelling, someone was coming towards them. Dean felt Castiel tense up against him.

“I found him! He’s over here!”

Dean turned his head slightly and saw the figure of a man coming towards them.

“Ooooi, Captain!”

Castiel released Dean from his embrace and tried to stand up, he was shaking too, probably just as cold and fatigued as Dean. Then he held out a hand for Dean, helping him get up too. Together they stood, watching as the shapes of Castiel’s crew slowly grew more distinct in the grey light. Castiel was standing straight, with a serious look on his face. Dean couldn’t help thinking that even with his soaked clothes, pale face and wet hair plastered to his skull, Castiel still looked very much like a figure of authority. Like someone whose commands you obeyed.

Finally the first person from the crew reached them. It was Balthazar. He looked very relieved to see Castiel, but lifted an eyebrow when he noticed Dean, whom Castiel had put his arm around. “I see you’ve solved your differences?”

Castiel and Dean blinked at him, looked at each other and then back to Balthazar again. “You’re not… surprised?” Castiel tried.

Balthazar rolled his eyes. “You two were hardly ever as quiet as you probably thought. I dare say most of us knew.” He snorted and settled his eyes on Dean. “And as long as I no longer have to search under every rock on the island for your flying wonder, Castiel, I really can’t say I care.” He shrugged and turned away from Castiel’s and Dean’s stupefied expressions. That certainly hadn’t been expected. Dean glanced up at Castiel. He looked relieved.

Dean looked down to the sand again. It wasn’t fair. Why was Castiel’s crew accepting him, accepting _them_ , when Dean’s had—had…

“Oh, what do we have here?”

Dean looked up to see the next new arrival. It was the dreaded boatswain, Gabriel the Trickster. Dean took an involuntary step back, just to bump into Castiel, who squeezed him tighter in response. Gabriel grinned at them, Dean in particular. “I see someone finally decided to come out of the woodwork. Took long enough.” He took a step closer to Dean, pointing at him. “You nearly drove the captain, and as a result, everyone else, mad.” He shook his head and looked up at Castiel. “Good to see you alive Captain.”

“It is good to see you too Gabriel, it’s good to see all of you.” Castiel addressed the by now gathered group of pirates.

“I dare say we expected to find a corpse.” Balthazar said in a joking tone, but his eyes betrayed real worry.

Castiel nodded. “If it wasn’t for Dean, you would have.” Castiel gave him a squeeze as the rest of the pirates eyes settled on Dean. He tried to smile at them, but it came out as more of a nervous grimace. Once again, Dean wished to fly away, back home. But he knew that right now he wouldn’t be welcome, so as it were, his best chance lay with the pirates. He could stay with them, just until he got word to Sam again. Maybe he could send a letter, even if Dean had never been as good with writing and words as Sam was.

“Hi…” He mumbled, supressing the urge to hide behind Castiel. It was weird, standing in front of the pirates like this. He used to be an enemy to them, or at least he had thought so.

A couple of the pirates, including Gabriel and Balthazar, smiled at him, though some still looked uncertain. It would seem that not everyone had been aware of his and Castiel’s relationship. If you could even call it that.

“Dean will be coming back with us.” Castiel said with a smile. Dean looked at him, trying not to hate Castiel for being happy, when Dean had just lost everything. It proved to be hard. Dean looked down and bit his cheek to keep from talking as he heard some of the pirates congratulating Cas, slapping him on his uninjured shoulder and telling him it was about time. Dean gritted his teeth at the last part. What had they expected? That Dean would one day join them as one of their own? He had no plans to. He was going to find a way back to Sam and the other kids, even if it killed him. He wasn’t leaving, not like this.

“I have to ask.” Castiel said, sounding puzzled. “How did you know? And for how long?”

“Really?” Gabriel asked with one eyebrow raised. “You ordered us to shoot blanks. How stupid do you think we are?” Several of the other pirates chorused in agreement.

Castiel nodded. “I see.” He looked around at the people gathered. “Thank you for accepting us, I know you could have all taken it quite differently.” He glanced at Dean when he said so and Dean looked down, knowing he was referring to Sam’s reaction. Once again, anger burned in Dean’s gut. This wasn’t fair!

“Well, not everyone is gonna be happy with this.” Balthazar said, gesturing at Dean. “I doubt Rachel will be thrilled to let him on-board.”

“She’d probably rather keelhaul him.” Gabriel added cheerily.

Castiel frowned. “I’ll deal with Rachel.” He said. “For now, let us get back to the ship.”

The crew yelled a “Yes sir” and turned around, presumably walking towards the boats. Castiel followed, his hand clasped around Dean’s who was following reluctantly. Dean kept his gaze down as they walked. He was cold, sore and exhausted, so right now a bed, any bed, sounded wonderful. But he still wished it could have been his own.

Still though, it was better to stay with Castiel than try to make it on his own. Especially being this run down and low on energy. He wouldn’t even have the strength to find shelter. Besides, Castiel apparently loved him. Dean could use that.

He wondered why that thought made him feel bad.

** xXx **

Castiel knew he should feel bad for Dean, and he did, it wasn’t right that the boy had lost what constituted as his family like that. But even so, Castiel couldn’t help it. Despite his sore muscles, tiredness and the cold, he still felt like he was soaring on cloud nine. As close to flying as he would probably ever be. Dean was here, with him, in his arms as they sat here, huddled together in one of the rowboats, heading for the ship. It was everything Castiel had wanted for so long, that finally having it, having Dean, almost seemed unreal.

He kept a firm hold on the boy for the whole trip, always scared in some corner of his mind that Dean would suddenly fly off. Not that the boy looked like he planned to do anything. His head was hanging low, his body lax and he put up with being held against Castiel as the boat was raised up the side of the ship. Castiel wasted no time getting them to his cabin, ordering people on the way to draw water for a hot bath. He closed the cabin door behind them and led Dean towards the bed, they didn’t sit down though. Instead Castiel took hold of his own shirt and pulled it over his head, then he pulled off his pants, soaked undergarments and socks. When he was completely naked he checked on Dean’s progress, just to find that the boy was still fully dressed, just standing still and dripping on the floor.

“Dean…” Castiel said, sympathy in his voice. It couldn’t be easy for Dean right now, so much had happened to them in such a short amount of time that even Castiel found it hard to adjust. But it had to be worse for Dean, who had basically been exiled from his home. Castiel walked over to the boy and took hold of his shirt, helping Dean pull it off. Then he dealt with Dean’s pants and belt. Dean didn’t put up any struggle as Castiel undressed him, but he didn’t help much either. He seemed to have retreated into himself, only barely going through the motions that he needed. Castiel wished he could do something for him; he wanted to see Dean happy, to see him smile and hear him laugh. He had gone far too long missing both.

Seeing as they were now both naked, Castiel dragged Dean down and into the bed, pulling the covers over their shivering bodies once they were positioned. He pulled Dean close and held him to his chest, stroking his hair and back. “They’ll be here with hot water for a bath soon.” He whispered into Dean’s ear, hoping it might gain a reaction from the boy. Dean didn’t say anything, but Castiel thought he felt him give a tiny nod.

“I’m… I really am sorry Dean, for what Sam and that other boy said to you. I understand it must be difficult to take in.” He squeezed Dean’s slowly heating body. “But you’re not alone. You have me, and the crew too. You’re welcome here, as one of us… I know it will be very different from what you are used to, but I’m sure we can make it work.” He hesitated, breathing in the damp scent of Dean’s hair. “I’m sure we can make us work.”

Finally Dean started moving, he shuffled around until he could look Castiel in the face. He was frowning. “Why did you attack the Indians?”

Well, that hadn’t been what Castiel was expecting, but he could understand where the question was coming from. He sighed. “To draw you out. I never planned to seriously hurt them, only to scare them enough that they’d get a-hold of you.”

“Sam said you burned down the village.” Dean still sounded very unhappy and ready to judge. Castiel half shrugged from where he was laying on his side. “Things, ahh, they might have gotten a bit out of hand.”

“And Sarah?”

“I wouldn’t have let her drown.” _Probably_. But Dean didn’t need to know that.

Dean sighed and laid his head down on Castiel’s arm. “It was very stupid, what you did. And it almost got you killed.”

Castiel couldn’t help it, he smiled down at Dean. “Yes, it wasn’t one of my better or most thought out ideas, I’ll admit that.” He let his hand glide from Dean’s shoulders and down to his ass. Still though, bad as the plan might have gone he couldn’t complain about the end result. He could have done without the almost drowning and nearly loosing Dean though. That had been horrifying. Dean snuggled closer and Castiel smiled wider. He could get used to this; he’d actually have a _chance_ to get used to this. Dean no longer had any place to run off to, he had nowhere to go. He’d have to stay here, with Castiel.

“Why are you smiling so much?” Dean grumbled, his eyes slit and already battling against sleep.

“Because we’re alive.” _And because I have you now._ But it was probably best that he didn’t try to rub that in right at the moment. It could wait. Dean was stuck with him now, so they had all the time in the world. Dean would soon come to realise just how serious Castiel’s intentions were. He wanted Dean in every sense of the word. Wanted him by his side during both the day and the night.

There was a knock on the door. “Come in!” Castiel called. Gabriel entered, carrying two buckets of water. Behind him a couple more crewmembers came in too, carrying their own buckets. They all walked to the corner, where a folding screen half hid a big lion footed bronze bathtub, and poured the water in. Steam rose from the bathtub and Gabriel stood back with a smile.

“The bath is served.” He said with a grin while giving a low bow. He straightened himself and smirked at them. “Try to warm up.”

Once Gabriel had left, Castiel pulled back the covers and dragged the sleepy Dean with him to the tub. The water was indeed warm, almost scalding, and it carried the scent of herbs. Castiel hissed as he lowered himself into it. When he was finally seated he motioned for Dean to join him. Dean did, but hesitantly.

“What’s the matter? Never had a bath before?” Castiel chuckled.

Dean scowled at him. “Not a warm one. I usually wash off in the springs.” He lowered himself completely, sitting with his back to Castiel’s chest. “This is pretty neat.” He mumbled as he let his fingers glide through the hot herbal scented water.

“Captain’s privilege.” Castiel told him with a smile and then kissed his neck. “Cas.” Dean objected, squirming as Castiel started tailing kisses down his neck and shoulders. One of Castiel’s hands sneaked around Dean’s torso, caressing the boy’s sharp hipbones and moving inwards towards his groin. Dean caught Castiel’s wandering hand in his own. “I’m too tired Cas.” He said.

Castiel pulled back a bit, moving his other hand to instead caress Dean’s chest. “It’s okay.” He mumbled into Dean’s ear. “I don’t need anything. Just wanna touch you.” Dean seemed to think it over, then he let go of Castiel’s hand and leaned back, baring himself to Castiel’s ministrations.

Castiel went to work. He stroked Dean’s chest and lightly squeezed and pinched his nipples. With his other hand he fondled Dean’s balls, then moved to lightly stroking his already hard dick. Dean’s panting grew heavier and he rested his head back on Castiel’s shoulder, moaning as Castiel twisted his hand on the upstroke. “We—ahh—we shouldn’t be doing this.” Dean gasped, as Castiel started biting his neck again.

“I don’t see why not.” Castiel said as he continued what he was doing, slowly making Dean loose his mind. “I love seeing you like this.” He kissed the sensitive spot behind Dean’s ear. “You’re so beautiful.”¨

“Not—haahh—Beautiful.”

“Gorgeous.” Castiel nibbled at Dean’s ear and tightened the hand he had on his dick. “Amazing.” He worried his teeth in the flesh of the boy’s neck, making Dean cry out. “Wonderful.” He pinched Dean’s nipple, then moved his hand so he could turn Dean’s head and kiss him. Their lips met and Castiel brought out his tongue, slowly fucking Dean’s mouth with it.

This was perfect, having Dean here, like this, not having to share him with anyone, not even the other lost children or Sam. Right now Dean belonged only to Castiel.

With a bit of effort Castiel got Dean turned around in his lap, so the boy was sitting with his front against him. He wasted no time fisting a hand in the boys hair and bringing Dean back in for a deep kiss, while his other hand found both their dicks and started stroking them together. Dean moaned into his mouth and rocked forward, chasing the motions of Castiel’s hand. “I love you.” Castiel breathed and they parted for air. He kissed Dean again and bit at his neck. “I love you so much.” He trailed kisses down over Dean’s chest until he reached his nipples. “You drive me mad.” He took them in his mouth and laved at the abused nubs with his tongue. That seemed to be the final thing needed to tip Dean over the edge, and the boy came with a cry.

Castiel kept working Dean’s dick until the boy was jerking and shaking from oversensitivity, then he finally relented and got out of the tub. He helped Dean get out too, and then gently started drying the now warm and flushed boy off with the soft linen towels left at their disposal. When they were both dry Castiel led them back to bed. He sat down on the edge first, motioning for Dean to join him. Dean hesitated though. “Cas, you didn’t…” Dean pointed to Castiel’s still straining erection.

“It’s okay, that was about you. I don’t need anything.” Castiel said, motioning for Dean to come closer again. Dean did come closer, but instead of sitting down on the bed the boy dropped to his knees between Castiel’s spread legs. He placed his hands on Castiel’s thighs and looked up at the pirate through his lashes.

Castiel sucked in a breath. “You don’t have to…”

“I want to.” Dean said, then leaned in and sealed his soft lips around the head of Castiel’s penis. Castiel groaned and placed a hand on Dean’s head, lightly gripping his damp hair. Dean sank down lower on his cock, working his tongue against the underside and sucking. “Yea, that’s it baby, take it in.” Castiel pressed Dean further down, making the boy take nearly all of him. Dean gagged a bit, but then relaxed his throat, letting Castiel slide into the wet heat. Then he started humming. Castiel nearly screamed and had to pull Dean off his dick so he wouldn’t instantly come, he watched as a string of saliva connected from Dean’s lips and to the head of his penis. “Holy fuck. Look at you.” Dean gave him a slight smile, the first one Castiel had gotten from him that night. He pressed Dean back down, using his hair to steer him. “Take it back in, yea, like that. Open up, all the way, there we go—oooohhh, yea, yes, that’s it, God, Dean!”

The boy really knew how to use his mouth. He slurped and sucked like Castiel’s dick was a giant lollipop, and soon had Castiel reduced to nothing but groans of pleasure. “Dean—Haah—I’m close….” He tugged lightly at Dean’s hair, telling the boy that it was okay to pull off. Dean stayed down though, having obviously decided that he wanted a taste. Dean bobbed his head a few times, each time taking Castiel all the way back. It was too much, and Castiel came with a groan of Dean’s name. Dean swallowed down the hot bursts of come landing on the back of his tongue and then pulled back a bit, licking Castiel’s sensitive dick clean before standing up and getting into the bed. Castiel was quick to pull him close, letting Dean’s head rest on his stretched out arm. “You’re amazing.” He panted, still winded from the truly awesome blowjob Dean had just preformed.

“So you keep telling me.”

Castiel smiled and kissed Dean deeply, tasting the remnants of himself in the boy’s mouth. “Let’s sleep.” He suggested when he pulled back. “It’s been an awfully long day.”

“What about your shoulder?” Dean asked, referring to the injury Castiel had acquired from Sam. Castiel shook his head. “It has already mostly closed. I’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

Dean sent him a weak smile. “Alright. Let’s sleep then.”

 _This time_ Castiel thought, _this time I’ll still have him in the morning._ He fell asleep holding Dean close, listening as the boys breathing evened out. He was smiling as sleep took him.

 

** xXx **

 

It was late, what time Dean wasn’t sure, but it was completely dark outside. He huffed and turned over, burrowing to Castiel’s warmth. The pirate was still sleeping soundly beside him, oblivious to the world. No matter where Dean turned though, his bladder was still full and the pressure was starting to become unbearable. Dean sighed as he extracted himself from Castiel’s arms and legs. The man became a real octopus when he slept. Dean stood up and searched around in the darkness, looking for his clothes. He found it, but it was still wet and also very cold. He grimaced, he couldn’t wear that. He looked around again, finally settling on an extra sheet lying beside the bed. He draped it around himself, sort of like a toga, and silently made his way towards the door.

It was cold out on the deck; the wind had tampered off but had been replaced with an eerie clammy mist which immediately stuck to Dean’s skin, chilling his sleep warm body. Dean shuddered as he made his way to the gunwale. He stood as close to the edge as he dared, then pulled his dick out and did his business, letting out a sigh. That helped.

He was done and had started making his way back inside when he heard a whoosh behind him. Dean startled and turned around, instantly alert. He wasn’t expecting the sight that greeted him.

“Charlie?”

“Dean.” The redhead came forward and enveloped Dean in a hug. Dean instinctively hugged back. When Charlie started pulling away, Dean almost didn’t want to let go. It was good to see her, but he was so confused. “What are you doing here?” He asked incredulously.

Charlie threw him a small smile. “Had to see how you were doing, they’ve gone crazy back home, I didn’t believe what they told me at first but…” She shrugged and gestured to their surroundings.

Dean tightened his grip on the sheet. “…Are you mad? About me ‘n Cas I mean…” He asked in a small voice.

“Honestly? I kinda knew.”

“What?” Dean said disbelievingly.

“Well, at the start I thought that Castiel might be doing bad things to you and you were just grinning and bearing it, but then you started being caught more often, and you always came home with this stupid sated expression and, you know, hickeys.”

“I told you those were bug bites!”

Charlie rolled her eyes. “I’m not an idiot Dean.”

Dean shook his head, finding it hard to believe that Charlie had known. “Why didn’t you say anything?” He asked, feeling a tiny bit hurt. He could have used someone to confide in...

Charlie’s smile turned softer. “I wasn’t completely sure, but I figured that if I was right, you probably wanted to keep things as they were, keep the pirates as our enemies so we’d have something to do. I didn’t mind.”

Dean’s shoulders slumped and he turned to lean against the gunwale, letting out a sigh. “That’s what I tried to tell Sam, but he wouldn’t listen.”

Charlie’s smile fell away and she scoffed. “Of course he wouldn’t, not with Gordon riling him up like that. I’m telling you, its chaos back at the den, all the ones who weren’t on the beach keep asking where you are, Sam won’t talk to anyone and Gordon is yelling and acting like he is suddenly the leader.”

Dean blinked. “So Gordon _did_ say something to Sam?” Charlie nodded. “Yea, after you flew off he made some comment about you saving your lover and of course Sam was on that like a flash.” She shook her head. “I don’t know how he knew Dean, but he used it to his advantage.”

Dean took his time to mull that over. He’d been right, Gordon _had_ been involved somehow. That just figured. He sighed. “I don’t know what to do Charlie. I mean, do I go home? Try to talk to Sam?”

Charlie shook her head. “Not right now. Sam is still fuming and Gordon and his lackeys, Roy and Walt, have half the kids on their side. I’ll go back, see if I can do some damage control, but don’t come back yet. Maybe tomorrow, okay?”

Dean felt tears gather in his eyes. “Thank you Charlie, I—I don’t know what I’d do without you.” He’d thought he was all alone, but it turned out he still had an ally. It meant everything.

Charlie smiled and gave him a punch to the arm. “Go back and snuggle with your pirate. I’ll deal with this.” She turned around and walked off a few step, getting ready to set off. “But you owe me like twenty coconut shells filled with dried fruit!” Dean laughed and Charlie threw a cheeky grin at him over her shoulder before setting off. Dean watched her disappear in the mist. He loitered for a bit, staring out at the mist and wondering if Charlie could do it, if she could bring the children and Sam back on his side. He really hoped so.

He thought about Castiel then. What would the pirate do when he learned Dean was going back? Castiel was obviously under the impression that Dean’s presence on the ship would be a permanent thing. He’d been excited about it, and even though Dean was kinda angry with him for finding joy in his misery, he still felt bad letting him down. But what had he expected? They hadn’t even talked about their argument yet, not really. But then again, what was there to talk about? Dean had accused Castiel of something he apparently wasn’t guilty off, and Castiel had acted out because of it (Dean was still angry with him for the Indians) but that didn’t change the core issue. Dean shouldn’t be having sex with him; he couldn’t, not if he wanted to stay a child. What he had allowed to happen tonight had been stupid, a lapse of judgement born from wanting closeness, wanting to feel Cas alive against him. It couldn’t happen again.

Problem was, Dean wanted it to. He wanted to stay with Cas almost as much as he wanted to go back to Sam and the other kids. The keyword being almost. Dean knew what he had to prioritize, but that didn’t make the choice any easier.

He sighed. Castiel would be so let down once he learned that Dean was gone. He looked out at the mist. Maybe he should just leave now, before the morning came. Just disappear in the night as he had done so many times before. Wouldn’t it be easier like that?

A door opened behind him and Dean turned slightly, seeing Castiel step out on deck. “Dean!” He moved quickly to his side, putting a hand on his shoulder, anchoring him to the ground. “Are you alright? You weren’t in bed when I woke up, I got worried…” And he looked it too, face pale and drawn. When he woke up alone he’d probably thought Dean was gone, just like he’d been planning. Being faced with this though, Castiel’s obvious worry and desperation, Dean couldn’t do it. He couldn’t leave, not like this.

He mustered up a smile. “I’m fine Cas, just had to pee.”

“The bed was already cold when I woke.” Castiel said, worry and suspicion mixing in his tone.

Dean shrugged. “I was watching the mist, thinking. A lot happened today, I guess I’m still kinda processing.”

Finally Castiel’s shoulder slumped and he seemed to relax. “I understand Dean, but you could do so inside the cabin, in the bed preferably. It’s cold out here.”

Dean shuddered, Cas was right, it was cold. He stepped closer to the pirate, giving him a hug and stealing his warmth. “You’re right.” He mumbled into his neck. “Let’s go back to bed.”

Castiel seemed relieved as he lead Dean back to the cabin, making him feel even worse about his almost decision to leave straight away. Surely it could wait a bit, just one more day. Just a little longer for Dean to pretend that he could have Cas too. That wasn’t too much to ask, was it?

Dean snuggled under the warm blankets, moving his cold feet close to Castiel, making the pirate squirm. He giggled a bit, then threw his arm around Castiel and closed his eyes. They were silent for a long while after that, and Dean had almost drifted off, when he heard Castiel whisper “I love you Dean.”

Warmth bloomed in his chest at the words, but he still didn’t know how to respond, so he stayed silent and feigned sleep.        

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta read by MustBeKismet.  
> If you want to pester me for the next chapter, this is my tumblr: http://thesaurus-with-no-words.tumblr.com/


	3. Beautiful lie

Castiel woke up slowly, then sun was shining in his face and seagulls were screeching outside. He lay still for a couple of moments, almost not daring to breathe. He didn’t want to open his eyes; as long as they stayed closed he could still imagine that Dean was beside him. He listened to the sounds of the sea as he lay there, afraid to move, not daring to find out if Dean had left him again. Slowly though, he became aware of the sound of soft breathing beside him.

Instantly he rolled over to his side and opened his eyes. His breath hitched. Dean was still there, lying beside him, his features soft and relaxed in sleep. Golden sunlight spilled in from the window and across his peach soft freckled skin, his long dark eyelashes rested against his delicate cheekbones and his plush lips were parted around gentle breaths. In this moment he reminded Castiel of both the expensive porcelain dolls his sister Anna had played with when they were children, fine and unblemished, but also of the kitten he had once had, soft, warm and comforting. He stretched out a shaking hand and gently placed it on Dean’s rosy cheek. He loved this boy; he loved him so much his heart hurt from it. Castiel caressed his cheek, letting his thumb glide over the smooth skin. Gradually Dean started moving, his nose twitching and eyelids quivering. Slowly he opened his eyes, revealing leaf green with amber highlights. Castiel stared, mesmerised by the sight he had been allowed to wake up to. He still found it hard to believe that Dean was really here, that he wasn’t a mirage created by Castiel’s desperate mind.

“Hey Cas...” Dean mumbled sleepily, his voice hoarse.

“You’re still here.” Castiel whispered, still in awe of that fact. Gently he turned Dean’s head, then leaned in and kissed his silky lips. Dean was sleep warm and pliable beneath him, but he hummed in pleasure as Castiel plundered his mouth with long and deep, but soft kisses. When Castiel finally pulled back, Dean was smiling softly at him, his lips red kissed and spit slick.

“Good morning to you too, Cas.”

“Good morning Dean. Are you hungry, do you want breakfast? Tea?” Castiel asked, eager to please and still a tiny bit afraid that Dean would suddenly get up and leave. Dean smiled and stretched beneath him, his groan of pleasure ending in a big yawn. “I’m good right now, thanks. Just wanna sleep.”

Contrary to his words though, his belly rumbled and gave a long almost whine like sound. Dean huffed and Castiel gave a small laugh. He leaned in and kissed Dean again, just because he could. “You wait here then, I’ll get us some breakfast.”

Dean hummed. “Hmm, breakfast in bed. You’re spoiling me Cas.” Dean raised his hand and let his fingers glide through Castiel’s sleep mussed hair, massaging his scalp. “I might get used to it.”

Castiel took Dean’s other hand in his and gently kissed his fingers. “You can. If breakfast in bed makes you happy, I’ll give it to you every day.” Castiel thought he saw Dean’s sleepy content smile faltering a bit, but he didn’t have long to judge, seeing as Dean pulled him into another kiss, guiding him by the hold he had on his hair. Castiel swiped his tongue over Dean’s plush lips and was granted access. He went in, letting his tongue run over Dean’s teeth and the roof of his mouth. Their tongues battled, twisting together in a sensual dance until Castiel pulled back, sucking on Dean’s lower lip and releasing it with a pop. He loved the taste of Dean’s mouth, even in the morning. Especially in the morning. It meant Dean had stayed.

Dean was smiling again when Castiel looked at him, though there was something in his eyes that Castiel couldn’t decipher. “You go get breakfast.” He said, pecking Castiel on the lips again. “Bring some juice… And pancakes.” He added as an afterthought, looking eager at the prospect.

Castiel laughed. “I’ll see if I can steal some from Gabriel. What do you want on them?” Dean looked to the side with eyes narrowed in thought. “Do you have syrup?”

“Yes of course, you really think Gabriel would still be here otherwise?”

Dean smiled and smacked his lips. “Then I want syrup, and jam.”

Castiel leaned in and kissed him again, stealing more of that fantastic taste from out of Dean’s mouth. “Pancakes with syrup and jam coming right up.” Reluctantly he pulled himself away from Dean’s warmth and his sweet mouth and stood up to get dressed. He limited himself to pants and a white shirt, not bothering with anything more. He threw Dean a glance from over his shoulder as he moved to exit the cabin, finding that the boy had closed his eyes again, looking peaceful and content with being where he was. Castiel released a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding, and walked out the door.

               

** xXx **

Castiel sneaked his way down to the kitchen on bare feet, which turned out to be futile seeing as Gabriel was already there together with Hael, flipping pancakes, Castiel was pleased to note. The boatswain, who often doubled as ship cook, looked up when Castiel entered.

“Morning captain.” He greeted. “Have a busy night?” He asked, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively.

Castiel smiled crookedly as he glided into a chair and rested his elbows on the table. “Not that busy, I assure you. But I’m quite famished after yesterday’s trouble, so I’m here to request some pancakes for me and Dean.”

Gabriel smirked. “Bringing breakfast in bed for your lover?”

“Yes.” Castiel said, a pleased tone to his voice. Gabriel chuckled, but then his expression turned slightly more serious. “I’m happy he stayed.” He said, looking at Castiel honestly. “It was about time.”

Castiel didn’t really have anything to say to that, after all he could only agree, so he just nodded and looked down to where he was twirling his thumbs while waiting for their pancakes to be ready. Gabriel whistled while he cooked and Hael had scampered off to somewhere, probably to gossip with the rest of the crew. It took a while for the pancakes to be ready, which frustrated Castiel, he wanted to be back with Dean already.

Finally Gabriel turned around and placed two full plates in front of Castiel. “Here you go Captain.”

“Thank you. Where’s the syrup and jam?”

“In the cupboard.” Gabriel nodded in the direction with his head. “Do you want eggs and bacon too?”

Castiel got up and looked through the cupboard. “Yes please. And juice?”

Gabriel huffed. “You’re lucky I already made some, it’s orange.”

Castiel sent a grateful smile his way while picking up a couple of crystal glasses and filling them with the bright orange juice. Then he stacked the plates with eggs, bacon and pancakes on to a tray, decided to bring the syrup and the raspberry jam along too and started to slowly make his way back to his cabin and Dean.

 

When he had finally, after some struggle, gotten the door open and edged his way inside, he was startled to see Dean was no longer in bed. In fact he was nowhere in sight. Instantly Castiel heart lodged in his throat. He walked further in to the room, still gripping the tray with his now shaking hands.

“Dean?” He called out, sounding nervous and expecting the worst.

“I’m here Cas.”

Castiel turned around and watched Dean pop out from behind the standing screen, back to being fully dressed in his green shirt and brown pants.

“Why are you up? I thought you wanted breakfast in bed?” _Are you leaving?_ He didn’t dare voice the last part out loud; less it might be the case. Dean shrugged and stepped closer to Castiel, gently taking the tray from his hands, which he noticed were still shaking. Frustrated with his body for betraying his feelings, he forced them to stop.

“I just had to pee, didn’t want to do so naked. Your crew is already up.” Dean explained reasonably as he put down the tray on the polished oak wood table and pulled up another chair. Castiel went over and sat down on the other side of the table, opposite from Dean.

Dean, who was now sitting down, breathed in and smiled. “This smells awesome; I can’t remember the last time I got to eat like this.” He said, busy pouring syrup over his portion of the pancakes. Castiel smiled at him, finally calming down again. He took his own plates and started digging in to the eggs and bacon.

“You want the syrup?” Dean asked.

“Yes please.”

“And the jam?”

“Ah, no thank you… I find jam unsettling.” He said with a grimace. Dean looked oddly at him, then laughed and poured jam onto one of his own pancakes. They ate in silence for a while, simply enjoying the food and each other’s company. “This is a great way to start the day.” Dean mumbled around a mouthful. Castiel was too happy to have him here to be disgusted.

“I can think of quite a number of ways to make this day good, pleasurable even.” He replied, lifting an eyebrow suggestively. Dean choked lightly on his orange juice, coughed and sent Castiel a glare. “I’m sure you could.” He grumbled.

Castiel tilted his head. “Is something wrong?”

Dean sighed and put his fork and knife down beside his empty plate. “No I just… I probably won’t be around much today.”

Instantly Castiel straightened up in his seat. “What do you mean?” He asked, already guarded.

Dean sighed and seemed to slump in on himself, looking guiltily at Castiel from under his long lashes. “I mean I’m…” He sighed again and looked down. “I’m going back to the lost kids. I have to talk to Sam.”

“No!” Castiel stood up, his chair tipping over and falling behind him. “Dean, you can’t.” He walked around the table and took Dean by the shoulders. “They said they would kill you.”

Dean scoffed at him. “He didn’t go _that_ far. Besides, it’s all a misunderstanding.”

Castiel leaned down, trying to catch Dean’s eyes. “Dean, he tried to drown me, he won’t listen to you.”

“And you tried to shoot him. Neither of you was in the right.” He huffed. “Besides, I’m not you, and I’ll go alone.”

“No.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Yes. There is no way they’ll talk to me if I show you the way to our den.” He tried to brush Castiel’s hands on his shoulder off as he stood up, but Castiel’s grip was firm. Dean pulled free with more force and walked over to the chair beside the bed, over which his belt and knife was hanging. Castiel followed him.

“Dean, please reconsider. You don’t know what they’ll do to you; you might not make it back!”

Dean fastened his belt and looked back up at Castiel. “Charlie promised me she’d talk with them for me.”

Castiel stopped and frowned. “When did she do that?”

Dean suddenly looked shifty. “Last night…?”

“But… You said…” Castiel shook his head. “You lied to me.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “I didn’t lie, I just didn’t tell you she was there. I didn’t want you to freak out.”

Castiel gripped his hair in frustration and gritted his teeth. “Dean, please don’t do this. Don’t just leave me here, unable to help you, not knowing whether or not you’ll come back.”

To Castiel’s surprise, Dean stepped up to him and put his arms around him. Castiel hugged him back, desperately. “Don’t go.” He whispered again into Dean’s ear. Dean sighed and rested his head on Castiel’s shoulder. “I have to; I can’t just leave Sam like this. But I’ll come back, I promise.”

Castiel huffed, but it came out as more of a sniffle. “When? Two weeks for now? Months? Saying you will come back is not enough Dean. Not when I never know when.”

“Then what?” Dean said, pulling back and away from Castiel and throwing up his hands. “What do you want from me?!”

Castiel stepped closer and caught Dean’s face between his hands. He looked Dean straight in the eyes. “I want you to promise me, that no matter how the talk goes, you’ll come straight back.”

“Okay Cas, I can do that but—“

“I’m not done.” Castiel said, making sure Dean eyes were focused on his before he continued. “When you come back, I want you to promise, that you’ll leave with me.”

Dean gaped at him, his eyes wide and shocked. “Leave Neverland?” He said weakly. Castiel stepped closer and caught his wrists in his hands. “Promise me Dean, or I’m not letting you go.”

For a moment Dean looked like he was going to argue, but he must have seen something in Castiel’s eyes. The same something that had once made him the bane of existence of every merchant fleet on the seven seas and beyond. Castiel was a pirate, and as such had no qualms using whatever means necessary to get his way, even if they were dark and unethical. Dean sometimes forgot that, because Castiel allowed himself to be soft around the boy, but he seemed to be remembering now. Dean swallowed visibly and gently tugged at his wrist but didn’t try pull free.

“Cas…”

“Promise me.” There was no compromise in his voice.

Dean closed his eyes and fell quiet for a long time, seeming to think something over with himself. He frowned and grimaced, but finally his expression cleared and he opened his eyes again. “I promise.”

Castiel surged forward, pressing Dean back against the wall and kissed him like his life depended on it. Dean gasped into his mouth, probably from surprise, and Castiel took the chance to stick in his tongue and plunder his mouth. Dean moaned and grew weak against him, relying on Castiel’s grip and body to hold him up. Castiel pressed his knee between Dean’s legs, forcing them to part, and started rutting into him. Dean pulled out of the kiss and moaned. He looked at Castiel with bleary eyes, but then blinked and seemed to focus.

“Cas, no, stop it.” He didn’t sound very convinced though, so Castiel ignored him and kissed his neck. Dean put a hand in his hair and pulled, causing Castiel to groan in pain. Their eyes met again, and this time Dean looked determined. “I really need to go Cas.” He said, but there was an apologetic tone to his voice.

Castiel sighed and leaned his forehead against Dean’s and sighed. “We are continuing this when you get back.” He grumbled. Dean smiled lightly and leaned in to peck his lips. “Alright.” Then he freed himself from Castiel’s arms, smoothed down his shirt and walked for the door. Castiel followed him out onto the deck like a second shadow. He caught Dean’s arm before the boy could set off and drew him into a kiss.

“Be careful. Come back soon.”

Dean smiled at him, but Castiel noticed that there was something veiled in his eyes. “Dean—“ He started, suddenly concerned, but before he could finish his sentence, Dean set off and was gone.

Castiel was left standing, arm still outreached, watching him disappear in the distance. He lowered his arm, and gripped the gunwale so hard that the wood almost cracked. He suddenly had the feeling that he wouldn’t see Dean again. He tried to smother this unwelcome thought, but it continued to determinedly whisper its poison in his mind.

Castiel stood by the gunwale, staring across the water for a long time, willing his eyes not to water with sadness, fear or frustration.

Dean would come back, he had to.

 

** xXx **

 

 

Dean wasn’t going back to Castiel, he couldn’t. That much was clear.

The pirate wanted him to leave Neverland, even though Dean knew he still hadn’t found a way, but Dean couldn’t. Not as long as Sam was here. It had always been the two of them, Dean and Sam, and whatever had happened, Dean couldn’t imagine living in a world where it wasn’t like that. Call him pathetic, but he needed his brother. And as for Cas? Well…

He felt bad, that much he could admit. He’d promised Castiel that he would come back, that he’d leave with him, be with him, but he had lied. And really, how much was a promise made under duress worth? He’d known he’d had to lie. He had recognized that glint in Castiel’s eyes, one he rarely saw anymore, but it still sent chills down Dean’s spine. Castiel was a pirate, and Dean knew he’d done many bad things before ending up in Neverland. He knew Castiel was capable of a lot more than he appeared to be, and he had no doubt that the pirate would hold him captive if he needed to. He was obsessive like that. But it didn’t mean Dean didn’t feel bad about it. He liked Castiel, and though he knew it wasn’t possible, he wished he could have kept him too. Or at least that their last parting hadn’t been like this, with him leaving Castiel with false hope. He shouldn’t have done that, it as cruel. He should have ended it. A clean break.   

Dean knew he could never see Castiel again, and it hurt. It was like someone had taken his heart in their hand and was now squeezing the blood out of it. Dean didn’t understand why though, it was his own choice, so why did it feel so horrible? Why did part of him want to fly back and throw himself into Castiel’s arms?

He dared not answer that, not even to himself.

Instead he concentrated on flying, which seemed to be harder than usual. It was like his happy thoughts kept slipping, being replaced by images of Cas or worries about what was to come. Several times caught himself losing altitude and had to propel himself upwards again. It made him nervous. He’d never had trouble flying before, so what had changed?  …Was it him?

Dean shook his head and banished the thought. There would be no more change from today on. He’d go back to Sam and never see Castiel again.

He tried to ignore how pain unfurled in his chest at the decision. It still felt unreal. Just an hour or so ago he’d been lying in Castiel’s bed, locked in an embrace and kissing with the pirate. The last thing he’d allowed himself to have. He’d tried to make it good, to make it so he’d have a good memory to treasure, but instead he just felt bad and guilty. Castiel had looked so happy when Dean had woken. Dean could still remember the sound of Castiel’s voice, the awe. _“You’re still here.”_ Well, now he wasn’t and he’d never be again. But the fact that he held such a power over Castiel, that he had his love, it was frightening. And now he was abusing it, knowingly breaking Castiel’s heart.

Dean cursed as his feet skimmed the treetops and flew back upwards. This had to stop; he’d almost crashed into the jungle! With determination he banished all thoughts of Castiel, and focused instead on what he was going to tell Sam, which was another thing he wasn’t sure of.     

By the time he reached the entrance to the burrow, he still didn’t have any idea what to say. He stopped in the air in front of the entrance and simply hovered, hesitating. In the end though, he took a deep breath and went in.

When he entered the big main room he noticed how unusually quiet it was in there. The children were all present, sitting around and working on whatever or whispering with each other. A total silence fell when they spotted Dean though.

Dean landed on the floor with a soft thump and looked around at the surprised faces. He swallowed, suddenly unable to speak. Instead he awkwardly brought his hand up and gave a small wave. Hushed whispers started up again, and a couple of the children stood up and moved closer to him, Dean could practically see the questions in their eyes. Before they reached him though, there was a loud thump from the other end of the room. Dean looked over and saw that it was Gordon, who had jumped out of his alcove and landed on the ground in a cloud of dust.

“Winchester.” He hissed.

Dean squared his shoulder and held his ground, clenching his jaw and staring Gordon down. “Where’s Sam?”

“You don’t need to know that.” He said, moving closer, his tense muscles rippling under his skin. He reminded Dean of a dark jungle cat, vicious and feral. “Why are you here? You were told to stay away!”

“I need to speak with Sam.”

Gordon growled at him, looking ready to pounce, he didn’t get the chance though. “I’m here Dean.” There was movement from behind the curtains covering Dean’s hammock, they shifted and Sam appeared from behind them, face grim.

“Sam…”

“Why have you come?” His voice was hard.

Dean fisted his hands, feeling his nails dig into the skin. Part of him wanted to fly away, but he forced himself to keep steady. “To talk to you, to explain.” He took a step closer to Sam, hyper aware of all the eyes on him and of Gordon who was still glaring, looking for an opening. “It’s all a misunderstanding Sam.”

Sam furrowed his brows, looking unconvinced. “How?”

“It’s…” Dean hesitated, he had no clue what to say, how to defend himself. Maybe he shouldn’t even try. “Okay, you’re right. I was in cahoots with Castiel, but it was to keep you safe! Ask Charlie!” Speaking of which, were was Charlie? Dean hadn’t seen the shadow of the redhead anywhere in here. Where was she?

Sam rolled his eyes in a mocking way and sneered. “Oh, yea, of course! I’m sure Sarah felt really safe when he kidnapped and tried to drown her!”

Dean winched and licked his lips, looking down. “He only did that to lure me out.”

“And that makes it okay?!? Why would he even need to do that?”

“Because I’d ended things with him.” He cast his eyes around, seriously, where was Charlie? He needed her to back him up!

There was a hollow laugh from the side. Dean looked over at Gordon, who looked amused and yet angry at the same time. “And yet you still flew right back to him when he was in danger.” He spit on the ground in front of Dean’s feet. He seemed fond of doing that. “We can’t trust a word that comes out of your mouth!”

“It’s true!” Dean’s hands were shaking. “I did end it! I just—I couldn’t let you kill him. We’re not murderers!” He looked back and forth between Gordon and Sam.

Gordon snorted. “No, but you’re together with one!” He stepped closer. “Tell us, how does it feel to be taken by someone with so much blood on his hands? How can you stand it?”

Dean kept his eyes on Gordon, afraid to look away. “Castiel isn’t a monster.”

“Is that what you tell yourself?”

“He’s a pirate, he’s evil Dean.” Sam said in his most reasonable tone, as if he was trying to convince Dean of the fact.

Dean tore his eyes away from Gordon to look at him. “It doesn’t matter anymore Sam. It’s over. I ended it.” Not that Castiel knew that.

“Ha!” Gordon fake laughed, moving closer still. “For how long? When’s the next time you’ll run back to him? Maybe when you start craving his blood soaked dick in your ass!?”

Dean bristled but felt his cheeks heating, both in anger and embarrassment. Sam looked nauseous. Being absolutely done with this shit Dean pulled his knife and stepped towards Gordon who had his teeth pulled back and was sneering at him. Quick as lighting Gordon had his weapon out too. Sam gave a yell from the side, but it was too late, the two boys lunged at each other. A space was quickly cleared around them, the other children drawing back and out of the way. Their knifes met, and Dean pressed back against Gordon, knowing he had the superior muscle power and was bigger. Gordon wasn’t one for fighting fair though. He brought up his leg and kicked Dean hard in the stomach. Dean gave a painful “uhff!” and fell, landing on his back. Gordon was on him in seconds, holding a knife to his neck.

“You’re done for Winchester, just like your little friend and her fairy.” Dean’s eyes widened. _Charlie?!_

“I’m gonna cut you up, then I’m gonna take your corpse to Castiel and then I’m gonna kill him too!” There was a crazy murderous glint in Gordon’s eyes as he raised his knife, ready to end Dean’s life. Dean didn’t close his eyes, but he looked away, searching for Sammy, sure he wouldn’t let this happen.

It turned out Sam didn’t have a choice though. He was being held back by two of the other kids who normally hung out with Gordon, Roy and Walt. He was straining and fighting against them, but it was two against one. Around them the other kids were frozen in shock, some of the smaller ones crying.

“DIE!” Gordon yelled.

Dean gasped, expecting the knife to be plunged into his chest. Instead a loud metallic clang sounded. Dean looked up and saw Gordon’s eyes bugging out, then slowly closing as he slumped to the side and off Dean. He dropped the knife in the process and Dean was quick to grab for it, seeing as he had lost his own. He got on his feet and looked up to see who had rescued him.

“Jess?”

The blond hair girl was standing awkwardly and holding a frying pan still raised in her grasp, she was panting heavily and looked pretty shocked, but her eyes found Dean’s nonetheless. They were frightened. “He said Charlie hadn’t come back yesterday, that she’d gone to stay with you!”

Dean’s felt panic swell in his chest as he mulled over the implications of that. Charlie had indeed gone to see him, but she’d flown back! What if Gordon had been the first one she met? Had he done something to her?

“I don’t know where she is!” He said desperately, seeing Jess’s lip wobble as she was close to crying.

“Dean watch out!” It was Victor’s voice, calling to him from the other side of the room. Dean swirled around, expecting Roy or Walt to be coming for him next. His knife met with soft flesh the same time as he felt a sharp object sinking into his side. Dean gasped in pain and looked down, finding soft brown hair, the person it belonged to too short to be Roy and Walt.

“Max… Why?” He asked, shocked and in pain.

Max looked up at him, eyes glassy. Blood spilled from his lips as he coughed weakly. The knife the little boy had tried to use against Dean slipped from his hands and fell to the floor. Max’s knees wobbled. Dean let go of his own knife and grabbed for him as the boy started sinking to the floor, turning him onto his back and being granted the sight of his own knife sticking out from Max’s chest. Dean’s blood froze. “Max, Max hold on!” He tried to put pressure on the wound, too scared to pull out the knife, less it’d cause him to bleed more. Max coughed weekly and looked at him with accusing eyes. “Don’t pretend you care.” He coughed again, more blood dripped down his chin. “You never cared… Gordon do.” Another cough, his eyes fluttered. “I—I’m gonna b—be his second in command…..” His eyes closed as he tailed off.

“Max? Max!”

It was too late, the boy was dead. He’d died in Dean’s arms. Dean barely felt the pain in his own side as he lifted his eyes and was met with the horrified expressions of the other children. “I—I didn’t I—couldn’t stop him. He just—ran right into me!” He babbled, fear gripping his guts.

“You killed him! Murderer!” It was yelled by Walt, he was lying on the ground, being pressed down by Victor who had obviously come to Sam’s aid. It didn’t stop him from talking though.

“I didn’t mean to!” Dean defended himself, still holding Max’s now limp corpse. “He tried to kill me, Gordon did too!” He tried to defend. As if hearing his name being said, there was an answering groan from behind Dean. It was Gordon who had woken up and was getting on his feet, swaying dizzily. Dean laid down Max’s body and stood too, but bowed over again at the sharp stab of pain in his side.

Suddenly Sam was there holding his arm, a grim expression on his face. “Leave Dean.”

“But—“

“Go! We’ll deal with this. Find Charlie and go back to your pirate.”

“Sam…” Dean pleaded.

Sam looked down at Max’s lifeless body. “You’ve done enough.” He said softly. “Now I want you to leave before anyone else turns out dead, including you.”

“But _they_ attacked _me_!” Dean protested.

Sam turned his gaze back on him, catching Dean’s eyes. There was a strange expression on his face. Dean gaped. In this moment Sam didn’t look like a child, his face was like that of an adult’s, lined with anger, pain, grief and frustration, but all of it being contained by the need to be practical and responsible. Dean pulled back his arm in horror. What had he done? What was he doing to his baby brother? Dean looked around, eyes lingering on Max’s body, Roy and Walt being pressed to the floor, Gordon once again up and glaring at him, albeit groggily. He thought of Charlie and Gilda, probably wounded somewhere, maybe dead. He took a stumbling step backwards.

“Leave Dean, this is not your fight anymore.” Sam said, not unkindly, but it was still like a slap to the face.

Dean blinked back tears. All this, this destruction, it was his fault. Somehow something he’d done had made those kids, Gordon, Roy, Walt and Max doubt him, hate him. Maybe Castiel had just been the last straw. Maybe he’d never been as good a leader as he thought. And Sammy, the way he was looking at him, like he couldn’t even recognize Dean, even when he’d just almost been killed…

Without another word Dean turned around and fled, flying out of the burrow and launching into the air. He flew almost blindly, his sight obscured by tears. Why did he always break everything he laid his hand on? Why did Max have to die? He was just a little kid, he probably hadn’t wanted anything but attention, something Gordon had given him when Dean hadn’t, and now he was dead because of it.

His chest felt squeezed tight and the nausea caused by the thought of what he’d done threatened to make him throw up. Dean looked down at his sticky fingers; there was blood on his hands, under his nails, everywhere. His shirt was soaked in it.

It was like something bent and snapped inside him, and then suddenly he was going down, hurtling through the air.

As a rock he fell from the sky, tumbling into the forest. He hit the ground hard, happy thoughts completely gone. Dean had almost no time to take in the pain; instead he rolled to his side and threw up. He heaved and spit as his stomach cramped and more of the vile bile worked its stinging way out of him.

When he finally no longer felt like puking out his insides he rolled to his other side with a groan. He lay there, on the cold hard ground in fetal position, quickly descending into despair. Dean didn’t fight the tears, he let them flow. He cried, howled, not caring if any wild beast heard him. If a tiger wanted to eat him, let it come. Dean couldn’t take anymore. It would be best if he was gone, then maybe he could stop hurting everyone he loved. He deserved to be eaten and torn to pieces; it was his fault Max was dead. He’d never even noticed that Max was unhappy, as Max had said; he hadn’t cared, too caught up in his own drama with Castiel.

Oh God, Castiel. He didn’t deserve him. The pirate who loved him, whom he’d trifled with, letting him believe that Dean wanted him too when he’d been planning on leaving him.

Leaving, yes, he needed to leave. He needed to be gone. If he’d never gone back to the burrow, Max would still be alive. 

Slowly he got to his feet, avoiding the pile of puke. He looked up at the sky through tear swollen eyes and dried his snotty nose. Where was he supposed to go though? He couldn’t go back to the burrow, not after what he had done, whether he’d meant to or not.

It didn’t matter where he went, he decided.  Nothing really did anymore. He’d just fly until something occurred to him. He crouched down and then set off, jumping into the air… And promptly feel back down again, landing on his hands and knees, scraping them both.

Dean blinked. What had just happened?

Slowly he got up, winching at his new pains and tried again, and again, and again, each time with the same result. Instead of launching into the air, he fell back down. He felt panic well up in his chest as he realised that he couldn’t remember his happy thought, it was gone. Every time Dean tried to recall the feeling, the freedom and laughter of being a child, it slipped between his fingers like water. It seemed distant, hazy and unclear.

In despair Dean looked down at his rust red hands where blood was slowly drying and flaking off, and he realized something.

_Adults can’t fly._     

 

                                     

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title is from the song "Beautiful lie" by YOAV, because the lyrics are so fitting.  
> This was beta'ed by MustBeKismet.  
> And jam totally goes well with pancakes. Shut up.

**Author's Note:**

> Ha ha, It'll get better?  
> Don't hurt me please!


End file.
